


Cardinal Sin

by drthicc



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Gender Neutral, Light BDSM, M/M, Other, Teasing, boii he thicc as fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-20 09:05:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15530898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drthicc/pseuds/drthicc
Summary: You pay a visit to a Cardinal, pitting him against several deadly sins.





	1. Sanctity

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry within reason.

You didn't have a good feeling about this. In fact, all you really had were butterflies in your stomach.

You wished you had worn something more flattering, but no, vaguely fitting pants and a large button up were the best you came up with. Not the best for a first impression, but you had heard that he always wore the tightest clothes "allowed.” Whatever that meant. Maybe he would be humbled by the contrast of your loose clothes with his own vanity. Or was it vain of you to assume the reason he asked you to visit? There wasn't time to think about this.

God, of _course_ he had a giant wooden door. So dramatic. He had left it cracked open, certainly some kind of test to see if you would have the audacity to respect him and knock, or dare to enter on your own.

This already made you want to spite him just a little bit, so you slowly pushed the door open.

He hadn't noticed you yet. He was pacing. He tugged his tight white shirt down, and was gesturing with a hand as if someone had made an excellent point (that someone appeared to be the wood floor). The room’s lighting and scent were produced exclusively by candles.

You noticed he had great posture, even when slightly hunched over in his pacing. You instinctively straightened up and drew in a sharp breath. This got his attention.

Based on his twitchy pacing, you expected him to whirl around, embarrassed. But he turned around slowly, straightening his shoulders. You felt a sense of intimidation that his clumsy predecessor had never inflicted upon you.

"Hello, my sweet. It is nice to _finally_ meet you."

The Cardinal took your hand in one of his gloves and kissed it. He looked older than you expected, but it was a welcome observation. Age had definitely been kind to him.

When he straightened up again, he was standing incredibly close, and you realized he was wearing a very attractive perfume. It took all your confidence to keep looking into his eyes.

"Nice to meet you, too,” you smiled. “You look different up close."

He exaggerated being affronted, giving a gentle gasp and placing a hand over his stomach.

"How is it that I look... different?”

"You are older than I expected.”

"Hm.” He tilted his head back and looked down at you. “Well I am surprised by your age, myself. You are, er, younger than I expected."

"Well, I’ve been told I look younger than I am," you agreed.

You mocked an innocent pout that made the Cardinal blink rapidly, ending what you thought would be an eternal stare-down. He cleared his throat and tapped his cane against the floor.

“And who could have told you that?”

Oh, fuck. That compliment practically had “Emeritus III” inscribed on it.

Do you lie and say it was a Ghoul? Or admit Papa Emeritus the Third’s title and risk blushing?

You sensed jealousy from the Cardinal, but it was only getting harder to sense, well, anything about him. His nervous ticks and glances suggested he was an anxious man, but goddamn if he wasn’t a self-assured anxious man. It seemed as if an imposing shadow followed him and obscured him.

You timidly held up three fingers. The Cardinal smirked.

“Heh heh. Such a _pretty_ boy, no? What could such a young soul like you want from an old man like me?” he asked.

"Oh, surely you're not so old as you let on, your Eminence.”

He chuckled, then swiftly moved his cane from beside him to in front of him, filling the only space left between you. He brought his attention up to your eyes again, and both of his hands were out of your sight now. A quick glance down showed he was playing with his cane, dangerously close to touching you with the tip.

You sighed, realizing you had been holding your breath for some time. Your heart was beating faster. Something about him was so mature, so inexplicably attractive, and you were so not expecting it.

You reached down and touched his gloved hand, and something seemed to change in him. His eyes widened; they were practically fiery. He was no doubt having an internal battle, and you had dared to cause it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

As you moved to pull away and apologize, he swiftly grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled. The top button on your shirt came undone, and then the next one.

"Assist me," he ordered, holding a gloved hand to your lips. You obliged and took the glove in your teeth as he slowly slid his hand out, eyebrows raised, looking down at you. You felt his hand stroke your collarbones and then your neck, then the back of your head. His light touches gave you goosebumps.

The Cardinal smirked. "Yes, you like that?"

You nodded carefully.

"Come closer," he ordered. You weren't sure how much closer one could get, but you inched forward and touched his arm.

He rubbed his cane against the front of your jeans. You closed your eyes to savor the moment, and felt him touch your chest with the other hand.

His touch was surprisingly gentle. The Third’s touch had been gentle and romantic, but The Cardinal’s touch was gentle and… downright sinful. You grasped the cane faithfully, keeping a careful eye on his response. Then you slipped your hand past the cane to his... holy fuck. His hips. Your breath grew quicker.

"Dear god," you remarked, trying not to smile and failing. You bit your lip.

"What? You do not like my legs?" he asked, slightly insulted, and gestured down at his tight pants.

You rubbed your hand over the thin material pressed tight to his upper thigh, and he tried to conceal his sharp inhale.

"You wear these around everyone?"

"They fit me well," he insisted, turning to the side to model them. “How do you think I fit my pants?”

There was, quite frankly, a lot to see there.

"God…” you breathed. You reached out to touch but he pushed your hand away.

"Don't make me punish you for this," he reprimanded, pointing a finger at you. "I'm surprised I haven't yet."

Your audacity to criticize him was met with consequence. He removed your unbuttoned shirt, and you watched with satisfaction as he gazed at you. The chill in the air only made you want to be closer to him.

"Pretty," he remarked, dragging his fingers down your sides. You knew he could see the tickle it gave you, and he chuckled. He had found his usual showman air again after the debate over his pants.

You smiled at his compliment before moving forward and kissing him. You could practically sense his eyebrows raise in surprise, his hands frozen at your hips. He pulled away to gaze at you, his dark eyes smokey and half shut. His breaths were quick and he looked almost pained.

You were sure he would go after you with the cane in that moment, but he kissed you again, just the same way as before. Then again, more passionately. His hands were everywhere on your bare skin, caressing and stroking and squeezing.

Your hips pressed against his, and you could feel the heat, the generous bulge of his pants. You snuck a hand onto his ass, and this time he didn't bat you away. He kissed your chest and your neck fervently, pushing you into him, feeling his arousal against you. He kissed at your ear, and you gripped desperately into his soft sides to stifle your shaking.

You slowly placed your hands on his shoulders, worried that any next touch to his body would be considered a sin or otherwise offense. But would it really be so terrible if he went after you with the cane?

You pushed yourself tighter against him, and you heard him moan for the first time. Sweet hell, and you thought his accent alone was hot.

It really wasn't fair how he was keeping his clothes on all this time - and surely he felt hot in them. You dedicated yourself to resolving this, but his shirt proved nearly as tight as his pants.

The Cardinal pushed your hand away once again and scoffed, disgusted by your avarice. Hooking two fingers into your jeans, he led you to the bed. You lay down as he directed, waiting for his Eminence to appear above you. But he didn’t.

He was taking his sweet time, hanging up his jacket and shoes by the door. You watched with intense curiosity. The jacket's absence accentuated his thighs and his... dear god. The gloomy lighting was doing him favors.

He swayed back to you, throwing his cane between his hands. Then he gracefully swung his way on top of you, placed your arms above your head, and traced his fingers over your torso. He studied you and prodded you for a few sweet moments as if you were a fascinating piece of art.

Then he bent down and kissed you as slowly as possible. His hips were moving just above your own. Fucking cocktease.

You gripped his thighs and pushed him down, and moaned when you felt him on top of you.

“Come on, you’re not gonna hurt me.”

“Oh, I just might,” he whispered in your ear. He pushed against you harder, his hands beside you on the bed.

He paused there, practically laying on top of you, letting you take his weight. You could feel his erection through his pants - well, as much as they would allow.

“God, please,” you said weakly.

“Please… who?” he whispered in your ear.

“Your Eminence… please,” you moaned, almost whimpering.

“ _Cardinal_ ,” he purred, rolling the ‘r’ in his title.

“Cardinal, please.”

He resumed kissing you, rubbing against you in the most torturous way he could conjure. You slipped your hand into his pants to at least put one of you out of your misery, but he quickly grabbed your wrist and forced your hand against his chest.

“So fucking impatient,” he growled.

He grinded harder against you as you gripped his shirt tighter and tighter. Then you slowly unbuttoned it - praying to every God you could think of that he wouldn’t notice - and dug your nails into him.

He made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a yelp. But his fate was in your hands now, and you threw it as far as you could from him.

The Cardinal looked utterly helpless, as if he had been stripped completely naked in broad daylight. His hands fell to his sides in exasperation. He looked nothing like the man he was when you walked in just minutes ago; his confidence had been replaced with disgrace. He had looked so graceful and cocky, and now his slicked back hair was messy and he was breathing heavily on top of you. He gave you a look of disgust that surely damned you in multiple faiths.

You sank your fingers into his inner thighs, and he writhed under your touch. You couldn’t imagine letting go. Well, until he slapped your hands away.

He wiggled his way off the bed, limping a bit as he steadied himself. He grabbed a robe and slipped it on with his back to you. He pushed his hair back and regained his composure before turning around. You watched, slightly scared and a lot turned on.

"Come here," he said, and you obliged. He pulled you close to him, and you felt a rush when you smelled his perfume again.

"I am afraid I have embarrassed myself quite terribly," he confessed into your ear.

"I am more afraid that you haven't," you whispered back, and he gave a soft hum.

"I will see you again?" he asked - though it sounded more like a statement - and assisted you in putting your shirt on again.

You glanced apologetically in the direction of his shirt and trailed your finger down his chest.

"You did say something about punishing me."


	2. Reverence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Cardinal was flustered by your last encounter, and has requested to meet with you again. Unfortunately, he's very much still the one lascivious.

You wandered through the church, wondering how you would ever find your way out. Everywhere you looked there were old hanging lights, mirrors, and wooden crosses, and occasionally an entrance to a small room or a diverging hall. Maybe you should have waited in the sanctuary for him after all.

Why couldn’t he have just given a time and a place like a normal person? “Sunset” did sound quite charming, and you knew how badly he wanted to fix his previous failed attempt at romance.

As you turned a corner, a gloved hand reached out and grabbed your shoulder. You were startled at first, but you knew it was The Cardinal from the scent of his cologne.

You whirled around to face him, and he put an arm around your waist. His grip tightened on your shoulder.

“I thought we weren’t meeting until... a little later…” you stammered, trying to hold yourself together.

“I figured you might be ready to come now,” he whispered.

He hadn’t made eye contact with you yet; his nose was tickling your ear, and his lips grazed your cheek. _God_.

“Did you... did you want to go somewhere?” you asked weakly.

He pulled back and his eyes met yours, the hazel eye first. It looked oddly… human for him. The white eye stared heartlessly back at you as he considered.

“No.”

The light from the single candle hanging on the wall reflected off his cape. Damn it, the cape was a really nice touch. You wished you could have had time with one of those old mirrors to adjust yourself before he found you.

The Cardinal tucked your hair behind your ear. The sound of scuffling feet and muffled voices just barely echoed through the hall, and you felt your cheeks twinge pink. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice in the dim light.

“You are blushing,” he noticed immediately, running the back of his hand over your cheek. You closed your eyes for a moment. He did something akin to smirking, giving you a flash of his canine teeth.

“It’s just… there’s still people here. I don’t want anyone - ”

“Interfering?”

“... Seeing us.”

The smirk was gone from his face. 

“Really? I don’t think you would mind that at all,” he growled.

The color was gone from your face, and you felt your stomach tie itself in knots.

“What? I’m not into... stuff like _this_ or anything... I just don’t want to be indecent.” You acted offended at the implication.

He cocked his head to the side.

“ _Bullshit_.”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t lie to me,” he demanded.

Sure, you were lying to him. But how could he possibly know that?

“Look, it’s just… not for me. I’ve thought about it before, I'll admit that, but I’m really an open book and there’s no reason - ”

“Then why are you fucking _lying_ to me?”

You saw it in his eyes before he said it.

“The third, outside the Edificio Elegante,” he said coldly.

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. You swallowed. Wrinkled your nose a little. Shifted your leg, just to make sure you were safe in that regard.

“No one knew about that,” you said to the floor.

His gloved hand moved back to your neck, tracing it (goosebumps) before squeezing for a quick moment.

He looked deep into your eyes, as if he could suck the information out of your soul somehow.

“The Third was very _romantic_ , wasn’t he?” The Cardinal said softly. He held you close, giving the world’s most bastardized imitation of a slow dance position.

“Yes," you admitted.

“ _Well, I’m not_.”

He pushed you slightly backward, ignoring the distant sounds of heeled shoes against marble.

“Your Eminence, there’s -” you began, but he thrust his hips against yours and the words escaped you.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled in your ear.

You wanted to say _God, fuck me right here, right now_ but there was no way that would happen. This was a public place, and not just any public place. Not like he deserved the satisfaction, either.

You could hear the heeled shoes getting closer. You looked at him worriedly, but he ignored your glance and pushed slowly against you again.

“Cardinal…” you pleaded.

The footsteps were right at the end of the hall now. You froze. And seeing your position, there was no way any deity was going to help.

“See? They went the other way,” he whispered, all too casually. Then he added - “It’s like you don’t want me to keep going.”

You reacted instantly, grabbing at the waist of his pants, pulling him closer to you.

You almost even said “Please keep going” before you noticed the glint in his eyes. You were making a fool of yourself. He was leering at you now, satisfied with your desperation. And dear God was that irritating. Why did you have to be so quick to react?

“Against the wall,” he ordered, gesturing at you.

You looked at him as he waited. He tapped his toes, and your eyes narrowed as he stared at you expectantly.

“And what if I don’t?”

The tapping ceased.

“And what if I don’t?” he mocked, searching your eyes. He stepped back a bit, certainly wondering where your audacity had come from.

Sure, you were irritated with him. Rightly so. But you had to admit - the old man looked _damn_ good, especially when he was deciding what to do with you.

And he decided.

The Cardinal swooped onto you, the cape following and brushing you gently. His gloved hands gripped your shoulders, then grazed their way to your neck, which he gazed at longingly. His thigh pushed against the most sensitive place in your jeans, causing you to stumble back a bit against the wall.

“ _Fuck_ ,” you breathed out. But that was giving him too much. You were squirming already, mouth hanging open. The weight of The Cardinal’s thigh against your jeans was more effective than he could know. 

“Is that all you got?” you added, honestly kind of hoping it was. 

His eyes flashed in displeasure. You had a habit of looking into the hazel eye, but the white one was practically putting on its own laser light show. Fuck, you were in for it now.

He smacked your ass first. His hand grasped on there, squeezing tighter and tighter.

He forced his thigh closer against you, moving his hips to create more friction. He looked down at you, enjoying your torment.

You wanted to put up more of a fight, but it felt incredible. You let out a quiet moan as he brushed your ear with a long finger. This made the corner of his mouth curl up, and he even let down his guard enough to close his eyes for a second.

The Cardinal traced his gloves down you; your shoulders, your chest, your stomach. His fingers drew across your torso as he hummed, up and down, tickling your sides. Your breathing quickened. He squeezed your side and leaned into you, pausing a moment.

You took the opportunity to run _your_ hand down his chest, and he was immediately taken aback. His hand slowed to a stop on your body, but you kept going. Your hand stroked down to his stomach, and you poked at the flesh under his shirt before you could stop yourself.

He grimaced and swatted your hand away angrily.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snapped. 

This was now the second time you had seen him genuinely flustered. And sweet hell, did you like it.

“Your tummy’s just so cute,” you said innocently, giving it a squeeze.

This had him worked up and bothered in more ways than one. He growled like you had never heard before, deep and depraved. He thrust against you again, more violently than before. His hands grasped your neck, caressing your cheek softly before sinking his teeth into your neck.

You cried out. You couldn’t help it. As his teeth pinched your skin harder, your arms instinctively jerked up to protect him from going too far. He held your wrists gently, waiting for your response before tightening his grip and lowering them to your sides.

You had forgotten to keep lookout, but you knew there was no way in hell you would stop this. You hadn’t expected his lips to feel this soft, or just his _breathing_ to feel this good. He was moaning against you, a deep rumble that resonated against your neck as he sucked. 

Then The Cardinal’s teeth released from your neck, and you you noticed the burning. You tried moving your hand upwards to cover the wound, but he wasn’t letting your wrists go.

You looked into his eyes weakly, and the corner of his lips rose. You were catching your breath - still trying desperately to keep quiet - and there was no way your cheeks weren’t bright pink. He would know.

He admired his handiwork and the pain it was causing you. Luckily, your bite mark was only exposed to the air for a few seconds. He swooped back in, and you couldn’t hold in a whimper as you braced yourself. But he wasn’t biting this time - he was licking.

You had never felt this weak around him. He freed one of your wrists to move an arm around your waist, practically holding you up. He stroked your neck, coaxing you to lift your chin.

“Such a soft neck,” he purred. His expression lightened for a second and he added “tastes so good” under his breath.

The Cardinal’s tongue was all over, rubbing the bite mark and circling around it as the hall began to echo with voices. The sound of his tongue was almost too much to handle, but his hand around your waist kept you steady. His cold demeanor had slipped, and his icy stares had transformed from frigid to melting. He was clearly becoming satisfied from devouring you, letting out small sighs and moans. The spot he was licking at was dripping wet.

He gave your neck a final slippery kiss, then gazed at you with an ever-more intense mixture of contentment and persistent hunger. Then his eyes closed, and he licked his lips slowly. God, that was a pretty sight.

But he was enjoying himself far too much for your taste.

“Had enough yet?” you teased, breaking his trance.

His eyes opened slowly. The icy scowl was back.

“Come outside with me,” he said gravely. “I have a thing or two to teach you about reverence.”

 


End file.
